


Death Herself

by orphan_account



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, ooooh lotsa headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8349763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Medic 'Lokeema has seen many things. Some brought him to break the ancient taboo of practicing medicine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired *heavily* by some lines in "Alliance" in Halo 5.  
> There's headcanons and the like at the end.

_ There. _ Hovering over the hundreds of dead, among the dust thrown up by an angry wind. A creature unlike anything ‘Lokeema had ever seen in his years of life. It was slender, curved in posture; it had two handheld weapons that were blurred by the storm.They certainly weren’t energy swords, nor were they ni’ilai--the elegant, traditional, short-bladed daggers oft-wielded by the highest of noble guardsmen. They looked wickedly curved, like  _ talons. _ He stared and stepped back, fear pulsing cold and sharp in his chest when it turns to him, visage hidden behind cloth. A cold, hallowed voice calls through the wind, sending the soldier reeling.

“Cham ‘Lokeema. Leave. You are not ready to die.”

“Why? I am wounded. I will  _ rot  _ with my brothers!” He hates the hoarseness of his voice. The creature advances, footfalls and stride all-too-familiar. It is a female sangheili, one that comes close enough he can see the ornate carvings on her armor, one arm covered in angled, silvery plating that continues over her chest. It stops at her waist, where flowing purple robes take up the rest, obscuring all of her legs but the ornamental boots she wears.

“You are not ready to die,” she repeats, voice even sharper and carving a hollow into the air. 

“Wait. Who are you?” He clutches the wound he bears uncertainly, eyes searching the empty hood. Nothing shows itself, but he sees skeletal wings splay out around him, enveloping him from the dust swirling around them.

“I am ni’Boiaru ‘Thaelai. You know me well.” Cham nearly chokes on his tongue--that name translated directly into “terrible sword-wielder”; the mythical creature that brings the honorable souls of proud sangheili into the Beyond.

A taloned gauntlet presses to the chest of his armor, interrupting his fearful thoughts, and he feels an aching itching before the world fades around him, the bodies of his brethren and their foes fading with it.

\------

“...Fall, in  _ battle! _ ” Tek croaks, mandibles hardly able to shape the phonemes around the agony in his side.

“There is no battlefield harsher than a medic’s tent,” Cham retorts calmly, dabbing the gash with disinfectant.

“Are you  _ mad? _ You know nothing-” he coughs wetly against the cot, “-of combat!” Cham scowls, teeth baring to the incompetent fool in his care.

“You fool. When I draw my weapons, it is for combat against  _ Death herself. _ ” He thinks back to the dust storm on some faraway planet where he witnessed her firsthand. “I defend you with knife and needle,” he adds, hardly pausing as he begins to stitch the skin closed.

“I fear no enemy,” Tek snaps, giving a grunt of strain, “not even Death!” ‘Lokeema shakes his head in exasperation, rolling his eyes as he wipes up a stray drop of blood. Death was not terrifying, by any means; he had embraced her long ago and accepted that she would come, no matter his efforts. It was inevitable. He cannot tell Tek ‘Hathar this, however. He would never accept her the same way. So, instead, he bows his head and resumes stitching.

“Yes,” he rumbles softly, “that is what they all say.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can skip this silliness if you want, won't hurt my feelings.
> 
> "ni'Boiaru" is "not-good" or "terrible/bad". "mal" has similar connotations, like in "malady" or "malpractice". Hence, "Malthael" turns into "ni'Boiaru 'Thaelai", with the surname following sangheili sword-wielder name conventions.
> 
> I had a thought along the lines of "what if the Council can change shapes more-or-less at will to ensure they are represented properly to whatver creature they wish to interact with?" Of course, my first thought is how Cham 'Lokeema mentions "death herself", and so this kind of turned into a mini plot-bunny.
> 
> Apologies for the nonsense.


End file.
